


Plans

by cametobuyplums



Category: We Have Always Lived in the Castle (2019)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Knifeplay, Light Bondage, Mirror Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 03:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18930562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cametobuyplums/pseuds/cametobuyplums
Summary: In which you’re warned to stay away from Charles Blackwood but he has plans for you.





	Plans

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, loves. I think this is right up there in terms of the kinkier things I’ve written. Let me know if you enjoy it, I’ll save you a seat in hell.

“I’m telling you, there’s something off about that fellow.”

Sunlights falls in yellowing beams. It trickles through the slats of the blinds. Golden dust dances above your white coffee. Thomas prattles on, words that fall deaf to your ears as you drain what’s left in your cup. A bright morning, one that finds you running errands with the man who has been trying to court you for some weeks now. The possibility of a relationship on the horizon. The son of a respectable man, he holds a stable job and is admired by the townspeople. A fine suitor.

“Are you listening to me? You need to stay away from him.”

A skip of your heart. The very man Thomas warns you of stands before you. His pink lips curve into a smile, one that doesn’t entirely reach those depthless blue eyes but it’s so  _charming_. A soft breeze ripples through his chestnut hair and a few bronzed locks flutter free of the coif. A simple grey suit paired with a warm yellow shirt. Charles Blackwood. 

Handsome today as he was a week ago when he arrived. A mystery. A complete stranger. A man whose allure is too irresistible for a good girl like you.

“Good morning.” drawls Charles.

“Hello, Charles.” you smile.

Thomas stiffens. Uncomfortable at the warmth you seem to show the man he’s spent so long warning you against. A glance at his watch reveals he’ll be late for work if he’s not careful and with a final reminder, he brushes past Charles in a brusque manner that has you apologising on his behalf. An airy wave of his hand, Charles insists he takes no offence and falls into step beside you as you walk into town. Polite inquiries after your family, you answer that your parents are out of town. A glimmer in his eyes at that. It’s fleeting, though, and you think little of it.

Thomas’ warning is soon forgotten. Charles is charming and sweet. Full of stories about his travels to Venice and you giggle when he speaks a few words of Italian. A smooth, velvety baritone to his voice that has heat rising over your skin. But even so, Thomas’ words find a way to haunt you and you blame him entirely for the little nuances that suddenly seem apparent. A flicker of something dark beneath the crystal blue surface of Charles’ eyes. The commanding way he scoops up your shopping bags. A shiver that races down your spine as you fumble with the key to your front door.

“It’s a sunny day, isn’t it?” puffs Charles, a foot on the doormat.

“It is,” you smile, turning the key. “Are you hot?”

“Maybe,” he smirks, head tilted to one side. “A glass of iced tea would be perfect right now about, don’t you think?”

Thomas’ warning echoes in your mind. Your heart races when Charles offers you a disarmingly dazzling smile. And perhaps it’s against your better judgement, but you invite him in. A glass of iced tea he drinks with vigour. He hums appreciatively, the sound sparking a tremor within you. There’s a certain chill that courses through you when he sets down his empty glass. And he stands so close, a woody scent with Mediterranean notes engulfs you in sensual cocoon. It’s all too easy to lose yourself in his eyes.

“I have to admit,” he says in a voice that’s barely above a whisper. “I may have been looking for an excuse to come inside.”

“Why?” you ask breathily, lashes fluttering as he traces a thumb over your cheek.

“You’re so lovely.” he chuckles softly, and your pulse quickens.

A shift in the air that’s all too noticeable. It’s hot and heavy, thick with tension and an intimacy you’ve not even felt with Thomas. Charles is so  _different_. He makes you  _feel_  so different. Alive. Excited.  _Aroused_. He hasn’t even kissed you and you feel warm all over.

“Why don’t you show me the rest of this place?” suggests Charles, eyes darkening just a fraction. “You want to show me your bedroom, don’t you, darling?”

A nod, that’s all you can manage. The temperature slowly spikes as you lead Charles through the house. He’s silent, says little and does nothing but wait until you stand in the centre of your bedroom. Intrigue is etched all over his handsome face. A flicker in his eyes at the neatly made bed but then he lets out a breath of air that commands your attention. Slow, steady footsteps until your back hits the chest of drawers. Heat radiates from him. You almost whine aloud as he reaches behind you, plucking the silver letter opener from the pot.

“Such a pretty little thing,” he murmurs huskily, twirling the blade between his fingers. “Pretty as a doll.”

Your breath falls in short, shallow pants. A question that lingers in the air. One he doesn’t ask but you’re all too aware there’s only one answer and despite your better judgement, it’s precisely the one you want to give him. Perhaps you’ll regret it later. Perhaps there’ll be consequences but right now, you’re under Charles Blackwood’s spell and you’re unwilling to break free.

“Good girl,” he smiles wickedly. “I have plans for you.  _So_   _many_ _plans_.”

You gasp as he slides the silver knife between the buttons on your dress, popping them off one by one and they roll around the floor noisily. The loud tear of your dress and it hangs in tatters. He sheds it breezily and you feel dizzy, standing before him in just your underwear. Cotton and lace he slices through as if they’re nothing. And you’re naked, bared for Charles.

It’s maddening. Charles’ eyes darken as they drink you in. Dampness between your thighs. Breasts rising and falling with every ragged breath. You barely know the man but you ache for him. He still holds the letter opener, and the coldness of the blade bites against your skin when he runs it over your breasts, nipples pebbling as you whimper.

“My beautiful little doll,” he hums with satisfaction. “Would you like to play?”

“I- yes, Charles.”

Charles’ touch is rough. There’s no gentility, no love, no softness. Little regard for your pleasure but that somehow makes it all the more arousing. It’s so erotic how he cups your breasts, squeezes harshly and pinches your nipples until you cry out his name. A lick of his lips as his hands roam over you, desperate to feel every inch of you for himself.

“I’m going to have  _so_  much fun playing with you, little kitten.”

The floor scrapes at your skin, Charles’ hands in your hair as he all but pushes you to your knees and your eyes widen as he unfastens his pants. A quiet gasp that seems to thrill him. He’s so  _big_. A thick cock that stands proudly, the wet tip flushed a shade of pink. He takes himself in his hand, presses the tip to your lips and chuckles at the precome he smears there.

“Open your mouth,” he gruffs. “That’s a good girl. Such a good little doll for me.”

Charles’ cock is a hard and velvety weight against your tongue. Your lips strain, eyes streaming and it only delights him as he cups your face. A low groan rumbles in his chest. Your moan muffled as he slowly slides his hard length in and out of your mouth. You’re  _unbearably_  aroused. Clit throbbing and mind fogging over with lust. It’s so  _dirty_ , you on your knees with Charles’ cock in your mouth. A man you barely know. A man who has a certain madness swirling in his blackened eyes. But, there’s such  _pleasure_  etched on his face. His sharply angled jaw pulled into a tight line and it emboldens you to swirl your tongue over his cock. He gasps, the deep sound turning into equally deep chuckles.

“Oh, kitten, you know how to play, do you?” he taunts, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “My dirty little doll. So pretty with a mouthful of my cock.”

You squeal as Charles pulls you off roughly. Expression turning greedy, he all but hauls you towards your bed. Silk scarves that Nancy gifted you, he knots them around your wrists, loops them through the bed frame and there’s an unhinged madness in his eyes when he steps back. A wolfish grin, teeth bared as he takes in the sight of you naked and bound. You watch breathlessly as he rids himself of his suit. A build chest with defined muscles, a soft smattering of dark hair in the centre and a trail of it on his navel. You tug at your restraints, desperate for your hands on him.

“Oh no, kitten,” he husks. “You don’t get to touch. This is about what  _I_  want. And what  _I_  want, is to fuck you  _just like this_.”

Charles all but eagerly parts your thighs. A wild look in his eyes and caramel coloured hair curling at the ends, a few loose tendrils fall over his face as he rolls a condom down his length. And  _God_ , it’s a delicious burn as he roughly slams his cock into your wet heat. His coarse growl couples with your broken whimper and already your thighs tremble. He nips at your neck, teeth scraping over sensitive flesh and you know it will leave a mark.

“My little doll’s so wet,” he hums, eyes raking over you predatorily. “Such a tight little pussy.  _Fuck_ , I’m going to enjoy this, kitten.”

Charles is  _ruthless_. Every thrust as punishing as the next and you’re so  _sore_  but  _God_ , it feels so  _good_. His hips slam against yours, your walls fluttering with every glide of his cock and he’s buried so deep you’ve never felt such  _intense_  pleasure before. Bruises he sucks into the skin of your breasts. The drag of his tongue down your neck. You’re a  _wreck_. A mess of broken begs and shaky moans. Orgasm barrelling down and you unravel at the seams. Falling apart for him as pleasure courses through you. Your vision blurs, white hot bliss rolls through your core and Charles growls dangerously as your walls clench tight around him.

“ _Fuck_ , kitten,” he swears, watching you writhe beneath him. “Squeezing me so tight. Look at you, taking my cock like this.”

You’re  _sensitive_. Burning all over. Drowning in a whirlwind of sensations as Charles fucks you through your orgasm. He’s frantic, frenzied. Your head spins, buzzing with passion. It’s too much and you’re no longer seeing straight. You’re overwhelmed but you arch your back in a desperate bid for more.

“My doll can’t get enough, can she?” he groans, skin hot and sticking to yours. “I’ll bet that fellow of yours doesn’t fuck you this good. Does he, kitten? Does he fill you up like I do?”

Charles’ filthy words spark renewed desire. Familiar heat pools in your belly and you feel so  _empty_ , sobbing when he pulls out and flips you on to your front. It’s then you realise that he’s bound you to the foot of your bed. A jolt to your core as you understand why. The large mirror above your vanity. You catch Charles’ gaze in it and he smiles as if he’s going to eat you alive.

“Don’t you look so pretty, doll?” he teases, fingers curved around your hips. “All tied up for me.”

A loud gasp and you jerk, Charles’ hand swatting harshly at your ass. He groans and spanks you again, dizzying you in an ungodly cocktail of pain and pleasure. His name is a mantra, a mindless chant and the only word you’re capable of. Eyes blown wide, you can’t tear your gaze away from the mirror. There’s a wildness to him. Something unhinged and dark that’s desperate to break free. And it’s terrifying and arousing in equal measure.

Charles is so pretty. So beautiful. With his mussed, floppy hair and smooth, bronzed skin over taut muscle. You’ve never had a man treat you so rough before. Use you for his pleasure. And it’s  _intoxicating_. You’re addicted to Charles Blackwood. And then an impish grin has you trembling.

“Such a pretty ass, kitten,” he murmurs, your skin still smarting. “I wonder if it’s as tight as your pussy?”

A moan catches in your throat. Your heart hammers in your chest. You squeal at the feel of something cold trickle over you. A dark but delighted laugh from Charles and you gasp as his fingers brush over your hole. A whisper of his name, one he ignores and then you’re  _reeling_  as he pushes a finger in. It feels so wrong, so filthy, so  _debauched_. And yet, you grind your ass back as if pleading for more.

A slam of the door breaks you free of your lust fuelled stupor. Your head jerking up from the ruined sheets, you gasp as Thomas’ voice floats through the house. And Charles? Charles grins dirtily, a sadistic kind of smile as he clamps a hand over your mouth. Any kind of warning you’re about to offer dies away instantly. The fear of being caught naked, bound and with marks blooming all over. The fear of Thomas seeing you like this with Charles… a ripple of excitement. Heat floods you. Your whole body thrums at the anticipation you shouldn’t be feeling. Thomas’ footsteps grow louder. You feel Charles’ cock nudge at your hole. The bed creaks. And Thomas’ voice calls out your name as your bedroom door opens.

“Oh, hello,  _Thomas_ ,” grins Charles evilly, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “You’re just in time, my friend.”

A hungry, blissful groan and Charles presses in, sinking his hard length into your ass. You feel so  _full_.  _Brimming_. Charles fills you in a way you’ve never felt before. And God, how he felt before is  _nothing_ to how he feels now, buried deep in your ass. A tandem of moans, yours muffled before Charles chuckles and draws his hand from your mouth.

“Don’t be shy now, kitten,” he taunts, his eyes fixed on Thomas. “Don’t you want our guest to know how good it feels having me fuck your ass?”

You tremble, eyes clamping shut and it displeases Charles. A hand in your hair, roughly yanking your head from the safety of the bed sheets as he forces you to look at Thomas. A smooth but deep thrust, and you’re helpless but to whine lewdly.

“That’s my good little doll,” hums Charles, hips rutting against yours. “Such a tight little ass. Feels so good around my fat cock.”

You dare to glance in the mirror. A pink flush creeps across Charles’ collarbone. Across his cheeks. Sweat glistens on his skin. His lips wet and swollen. He looks just as wrecked as you and it has you dripping, slick coating your thighs. Thomas is frozen in his tracks. Eyes wide in abject horror as Charles takes you as he pleases. He says nothing else, merely fixes a steely gaze that dares Thomas to say something but he only deflates, a strangled noise resounding in his throat before he tears from the room.

“My greedy little girl,” gasps Charles. “So hungry for my cock.”

You’re  _throbbing_. Walls fluttering around nothing and you feel so empty there. The bed sheets bunch up under you with every thrust from Charles. The soft cotton rubs against your clit, catches on your nipples. Heat rising to a staggering height and coil tightening impossibly in your tummy. A choked out mess of words you think are his name.

“You’re such a dirty little thing, darling,” he says, rhythm sloppy and voice strained. “Can’t help yourself from coming, can you? You just need me to fill you up with my cock, don’t you? Need me to fuck you. Use you.”

It’s too much. The punishing roll of his hips. The words that drip with sex. You watch it all in the mirror and the intensity is  _overwhelming_. Your whole body stiffens as you come, hot tears rolling down your cheeks as you cry out Charles’ name. It’s his undoing. He groans out a curse as he comes, too, all but collapsing atop you but you barely notice, consumed by an ecstasy that’s so  _exquisite_  you lose all sense of yourself. It prickles all over, short, sharp stabs of heat and smell of sweat, sex and Charles lingers on the sheets.

Minutes tick by. You’re not sure how many. You ache all over. Heart still racing and breath unsteady. A sharp pang as you remember Thomas. You have no idea how you’ll look him in the eye. Only when you squirm does Charles lift himself off you. You whimper, still sensitive as he pulls out. You wait for soothing words and gentle caresses that never do quite come. No, you’re only allowed a harsh spank. The shiny blade of the letter opener slices through the silk scarves around your wrists. Charles’ mouth brushes over your ear.

“Don’t you remember? I have so many plans for you,” he promises darkly. “Oh, doll, I’m going to play with you all day.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Come say hello on Tumblr](http://cametobuyplums.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [If you enjoy my writing please consider buying me a coffee](https://ko-fi.com/cametobuyplums)


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